Pool Party Pandemonium
by Emily Hoyt
Summary: "What do you mean, pool party?" Kate asked, staring at her friend as if she had grown another head. -"Girl, you know what I mean!" Lanie exclaimed with a smile. "I mean you in an itty, bitty bathing suit, slowly driving Writer Boy bonkers."


"What do you mean, pool party?" Kate asked, staring at her friend as if she had grown another head.

"Girl, you know what I mean!" Lanie exclaimed with a smile. "I mean you in an itty, bitty bathing suit, slowly driving Writer Boy bonkers. And _don't_!" she barked out as Kate's mouth opened to rebuttal her argument. "Don't tell me you haven't ever thought about our little author in nothing more than swim trunks!"

"Are you kidding? He'll probably wear a Speedo! Are you sure you need to see _that_ much of Richard Castle? Or anyone for that matter," she argued, cringing at the thought of any man wearing a Speedo. How those horrendous male swimsuits had ever been created was a mystery and a nightmare, all wrapped in one piece of lycra!

"Oh, c'mon, he has more self-respect than that! Girl, NO man looks good in one of those! Not even Javi," she admitted, snapping her mouth shut quickly. Kate grinned and looked at her best friend, so looking forward to teasing her in the future. "He's never dared to wear one, but even as gorgeous as he is, it just isn't him," she clarified. Kate grinned and dropped the subject.

"I don't know, Lanie… I'm… It's not really my thing. Besides, if any of the guys did show up in a Speedo, I'm not sure I'd ever be able to work with them again."

"So, we'll make sure a 'no Speedos' rule is understood. Please? On top of needing my girl there to balance out all the testosterone, I also need help with set up and stuff! I'ma need a hand serving the lunch and, maybe you could make your mom's famous potato salad?" she said, twisting her fingers as if she were a child asking for an extra cookie. Kate tried to deny her and looked away from the lightly pleading puppy-dog eyes from her friend, but she couldn't resist.

"Alright, fine… I'll make the potato salad and I'll stay for a little while, but I'm not guaranteeing any swimming, drinking or even more than an hour or two total. Capiche?"

"Fine, fine, fine! I'll take what I can get! But, Kate!" she called as the detective began making her way to the elevator. Kate stopped and looked back over her shoulder to Lanie's sincere expression. "Seriously, Kate… bring your stuff in case. It might be more fun than you expect and then, you'd be caught with no bathing suit or towel or change of clothes… For sure, that'll be boring."

With a small nod of her head, mostly to appease her friend's concern, she turned and stepped into the elevator, nearly walking into the clear blue eyes she was dreading. She stepped in beside him and the ride passed in silence. A small part of her heaved a sigh of relief that he was not in his normal Twenty Questions mode, but his twitching and fidgeting was a little unnerving, coming from the normally composed and relaxed novelist.

"Castle, is everything alright?" she asked, turning towards him a little to engage him in a conversation. He nodded his head, but offered little more. She sighed again. "Castle, what's wrong? You're nervous about something."

"It's nothing. So," he segued, "did our Dr. Parish manage to talk our work-a-holic detective into attending her party?" he said, the return of animation to his face making up for how badly she wished he hadn't asked her.

"Yeah," she grumbled, rubbing the back of her neck and missing Rick's hard swallow. "I told her I'd make an appearance, but I'm not staying long!" she declared, her brows knitting together as she resolved to be as brief as possible at the party. "I figure if I show up, say hello to everyone and deliver my salad, she'll let me slip out within an hour." At that, Rick let out a snort and tried to cover it with a cough, but Kate's eyes turned up to him. "What?"

"Lanie? Let you leave? Maybe, but I'm positive it will be accompanied by a _lot_ of protest."

"Too bad," Kate mumbled. "If I'm not having fun or feel uncomfortable, then why would I…"

"Why would you feel uncomfortable? What's wrong, detective? Worried the sight of me in my swim trunks will make you swoon?" he suggested, his eyebrows waving along his forehead. She groaned in disgust and turned away from him, hoping he wouldn't notice the ever-so-subtle rosiness of her cheeks.

"I guess I should be thankful; you're planning on wearing swimming trunks and not a Speedo…" she moaned, but this time the answering groan of disgust was from Rick.

"Please! I might be ruggedly handsome, but I'm not going to be receiving calls any time soon to do a PlayGirl spread!"

Kate's heart hammered in her chest at the thought. She would definitely purchase _that_ copy of the magazine. Blood hummed through her veins, but she tightened her control.

"I doubt your ego needs that kind of inflating," she replied with a laugh, hoping the spasm in her breath could be attributed to the chuckle and not the burst of desire that had left her slightly breathless.

"Gee, thanks, detective. Now, what's this about salad?" he asked as they arrived on the ground floor. "Doesn't Lanie know how to mix lettuce, croutons and dressing?"

"It's a potato salad, genius," she said with another laugh, this one genuine. "I have a recipe that my mom used all the time. The flavor is fantastic. Lanie wants me to make a batch," she groaned.

"I take it we agreed before thinking this through?" he supplied and she nodded her head.

"The recipe only yields a few servings. That means doubling or even tripling it and having to peel and dice the according amount of potatoes… oh!" She had honestly forgotten how much work went into that salad recipe. Her only thought at the time had been to get Lanie to lay off and, if making her mom's potato salad would do the trick, she would do it. Now, the reality of her promise was kicking in.

"So… how many pounds does a single take?" Rick asked as he walked her to her car.

"Five."

"Yikes! Ten to fifteen pounds of potatoes to peel?" His eyes widened and sympathy glowed through his entire face. "When are you making it?" he asked.

"Well, if I have fifteen pounds of potatoes to go through, I better start tonight."

"I don't have any plans; would you appreciate some help?" he offered, positive she would refuse having him in her apartment for any amount of time. Although they had never full out discussed his declaration almost 8 months ago when she had been shot, they both knew she had heard him. And the tension had become insane.

"Seriously? You don't mind?" she asked, desperation and relief overriding any anxiety that remained between them. He shrugged his indifference and she could not suppress the smile that overcame her. No matter what was happening between them, he was always there for her when she needed help, regardless the task to be tackled.

"It's not a problem. Do you have an extra peeler?" he asked and she bit her lower lip in thought.

"I'm not sure if I even have one. I usually use a knife to peel."

"Holy cow, no wonder it takes an eternity. I'll run home and snag two peelers from my place. How's seven-thirty sound?" he asked, heading towards his car. She nodded her head. "So, you'll get all the ingredients you need and I'll be over a little later."

With that, he ducked into his waiting vehicle and zoomed off, leaving Kate standing on the corner, running through the list of ingredients while a little voice in the back of her head continued to scream at her, _"What are you thinking?"_

She had just ripped the cord out that held the bag shut when the door shivered under a powerful knocking. For a moment, she had wondered if he was backing out of the odious task seeing as it was a quarter to eight and he'd yet to arrive. No more than a second later, she heard his knuckles rap on the door.

"I'm coming!" she hollered, laying the bag down, hoping the potatoes wouldn't roll out the bag as it keeled over. "Ah, crap!" she cussed, leaving the spuds on the ground to answer the door. There he was, in his jeans and a sky blue shirt. God, his eyes were gorgeous! Fighting down the thought, she stepped aside and let him in. He held up two plastic Y's with a blade spanning the top of the shape. "I thought you might have decided against it after all."

"I know I'm late… Ye have _so_ little faith, detective!" he gushed, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead with flair. She scoffed. "Alright, enough teasing, or I won't let you use my fantastic little peeling aid. This thing will be much faster than your knife."

They moved to the kitchen and collected the ten potatoes that had fallen on the floor. While Rick placed them back into the paper bag, Kate rummaged around her kitchen for a large steel pot and a plastic bag for the peelings. Pulling up a bar stool to the island counter, Rick placed himself at the corner near her and the bag and took the first spud to peel. His hand flew over the potato, the blade moving easily over the surface and taking off the thinnest slivers of skin, leaving as much of the edible vegetable as possible. She was through two when she finally took a good look at the little peeler.

"This thing is fantastic!" she gushed, barely applying any pressure as she dragged the blade down the skin. "It cuts like a dream. This blade is razor sharp."

"Yes, it is," he agreed, his eyes widening for a moment before they narrowed in the blade's direction. "I had a box worth of used Band-Aids to prove it the first time I tried it. A plaster per fingertip practically."

"Hmm…" she hummed before resuming her work and paying attention not to slip and slice her finger open. She had to handle lemons and salt for her recipe and an open wound would make things a lot harder.

As if in cue, the blade caught on an eye on the potato and jumped, landing on the very tip of her right index finger. She swore and dropped the peeler before grasping her hand and squeezing the tip to see if blood pearled from it. Nothing came from the slice, but she had slit the skin all the same. And it stung!

"Stop swearing and tell me where you keep your band-aids, Beckett," he said, ever the father. She grunted and shoved her hands under the water faucet as she instructed him to check the medicine cabinet in her bathroom. He disappeared down the hall and was back seconds later with two tiny white envelops. From the first, he took out an anti-septic wipe and dabbed with feather-light touches to the little cut, but the liquid made the cut burn for a moment. She hissed and grit her teeth, but let him be. Then, he opened the other little paper and pulled out an X-shaped plaster, placing it over the tip of her finger and securing it all around.

"There we go. Good as new," he whispered, pressing a quick kiss to the tip before pulling back in embarrassment, looking up to see a slightly stunned expression on Kate's face. "Sorry, force of habit," he said on a chuckle. "You know, kissing the boo-boo better?" he said and she felt laughter bubble within and pour out of her. The famous Rick Castle still used baby-talk for his daughter.

"It's fine, Castle. Actually, that was kind sweet. Sometimes I forget you're a dad. It's nice."

"Thanks…" With that, he returned to the task at hand, peeling the resistant spuds. Almost an hour passed and, as Kate grabbed the last potato out of the bag, Rick stretched his back on his stool.

"Well, I guess that's that," he mumbled, sliding off the stool and taking his coat from the back of her couch. "Before I leave, is there anything else I can do?"

"Well, you…" she started, but stopped herself when she saw him collecting his jacket. "No, it's fine."

"No, it's not. You had something else you wanted me to help with." He dropped the coat back over the couch and rolled his sleeves back up to his forearms. She thought she might swoon. His arms looked so strong! She shook her head. "What is it? I… I just thought you'd want peace and quiet, so I was getting ready to clear out. But, if you need a hand for a while longer…"

"It's just… Well, the potatoes need to be diced and the recipe calls for salt and fresh squeezed lemon juice. And, with my finger…"

"Say no more, milady! Just consider me your sous-chef for the evening," he said with a bow before making his way to the sink to being rinsing all the sliced potatoes. Once free of dirt and residue, they each took a Santoku and began the next phase of preparation.

Between the two of them, the potatoes took little to no time to cube. When there were several left to do, he retired the knife and collected the lemons from the counter. He was about to ask where she kept her bowls when she looked over her shoulder and pointed to a cupboard directly above the sink.

"There are dessert bowls in those doors. I need the juice of one and a half lemons."

"My little mind-reader!" he declared as he took a bowl from said doors and moved back to the island next to her. He sliced the lemons in half and began squeezing. She tried her best to keep her gaze focused on her task of dicing potatoes, but the muscles rippling through his forearm as he squeezed the lemons dry was almost too intense for some bizarre reason. Her libido was out of control and she needed to rein it in and fast. If the peeler nicked her finger, she definitely needed to be careful as she wielded a six inch Japanese blade. She might lose the finger this time!

"Alright, the lemons have been wrung dry. Do you… do you mind if I have them?" he asked shyly and she stared up at him as if he was out of his mind. "I like eating lemons! After the initial bite, they taste wonderful. Please?" he said with big puppy eyes. She scoffed.

"Fine… just don't turn into a sour-puss on me…" she teased as he took his first bite, his eyes narrowing and his cheeks puckering inwards. "Like that," she added in a dry tone as she placed the diced potatoes into boiling water, stirring in salt from the shaker as she added heat. "Those need to cook for several minutes. In the meantime, help me with the bacon? I cooked it as I got in so it could cool, but it needs to be chopped now."

"Not a problem," he said, taking another bite of the unsqueezed lemon half. His face remained neutral. "See? It's all good now! Try a bite," he said, slicing off a little piece he hadn't bitten into yet. While she took her first tiny bite and her face collapsed inwards, he took the cutting board and the cooked bacon to begin the chopping process. "Alright," he said, chopping the slices into tiny pieces. "Now, take your second bite. This one won't be as bad."

"Alright…" she said uncertainly. When she bit in the second time, the instant tartness was not as intense and she was able to taste the sweetness of the citrus and the sharp lemon flavor. "Hmm, not bad!" she said, taking another bite as she watched him chop. He sped through the task and was finished with several minutes. He dumped all the chopped meat back into the dish she had set it aside in and waited for further instructions.

"Well, um… the last thing is the cheese. Are you up to a little bit of grating?"

"Sure. Where is it?" She ducked into the fridge and pulled out a large brick of yellow cheese which she handed to Rick to open while she tried to locate her grater. "Ooh," he grumbled low. "This is Extra Old Cheddar. Oh, crap, this salad is going to be amazing!" he gushed, slicing open the package. "Have you ever tried this stuff with apples, raspberries, grapes and a glass of Ice Cider?"

"I can't say I've ever heard of Ice Cider."

"What?" he gasped in disbelief, smiling to himself as he recalled the mixing flavors. "Beckett, a taste experience unlike anything else! The fruit flavors and the cheese together heighten each other and the cider is like alcoholic apple juice, but more syrup-like. It's fantastic."

"Well, that's going on my list for my next liquor store run," she said, rushing to her magnetic shopping list pad and scribbling 'iced cider' onto it.

"Alright. The cheese is grated."

"Perfect. Just in time. The potatoes are ready to teem." She took the lid and twisted it onto the pot to make the straining process easier. She was poised to transport the pot to her sink when Rick tapped her shoulder and ushered her out of the way. Lifting the pot as if it weighed little more than a plastic pail, she moved over and let him to the sink to drain the water from the potatoes.

"There we are. So, is there anything else?" he said, backing away as she inspected the cubes to make sure they were not too soggy. She shook her head and he moved back from her. "Alright, then… I guess…"

"What? No, stay. You helped so much; I'd hate to make you wait another day before you can taste it. I know you're dying to…" she added, watching his eyes light up as she had told he'd get to sample the salad this evening. "You're so easy to read!" she grumbled with a smile, moving to the kitchen to pull out a container of cooking cream, cream cheese and flour. "Um…" she groaned and straightened up to face him.

"What is it?" he asked, his face contorting in worry and she couldn't help but find it adorable.

"I forgot something else I need you to do…" she said biting her lower lip. She was so nervous about his reply that she never noticed his groan of discomfort. "Onion duty?" she asked in a lower voice and watched his shoulders sink in relief.

"Is that all?" he asked. He breezed past her to the rotating fan in her living room and turned it on, directing it at the island counter, then stood with his back to the wind. "The reason you cry is because of the gas. Use a fan to blow the rising gas away from your eyes and it makes it easier."

"Oh… That makes sense. Good to know. Here," she said, passing him the white onion as she moved to the stove. "While you chop, I'll make the sauce. Oh, and tiny pieces, please? Not microscopic!" she said instantly as he shaved a piece less than a millimeter cubed. "You're such an ass!" she said, but her chuckled knocked the seriousness from her insult. He laughed and began to finely chop the onion for her while she added flour to her heating cream and stirred it into a slightly thicker consistency. With a hum of approval, she dumped a full brick of cream cheese into the mixture, then reached for the old cheddar.

"Oh, my God, this is going to be delicious!" he moaned as he stood behind her looking over her shoulder for a brief moment before ducking by to place the bowl of chopped onions beside her.

"Actually, could you fry them lightly until they're translucent?" she asked, passing him a frying pan and returning to her sauce.

They worked side by side, ducking left and right, reaching for utensils, ingredients and dishes and laughing back and forth as they exchanged jokes or took whiffs of the wafting scents. When the onions were ready, he took the pan, sidestepped between her and the counter and set the pan on a trivet on the island.

"You waltz divinely," he said to her and she gave him a pointed stare. "The Kitchen Waltz!" he said, as if that was all the explanation necessary. Obviously not, judging by Kate's expression. "When you work in a small space and two people manage to move around in it, doing what they have to do without getting in the other's way, Mother calls it the Kitchen Waltz."

"I love Martha, but she's a little strange," Kate said with a smile before nodding her head. "She does have a point though."

Kate assembled the pot of potatoes, the chopped bacon, the sautéd onions, the cheese sauce and the remaining cheddar along with the required spices on the island before beginning. She seasoned the potatoes first with paprika, garlic salt, a little bit of crushed garlic in oil and parsley before dumping in the onions and bacon and stirring all the ingredients through. Once everything was evenly mixed, she began by pouring in half of the sauce mixture. Rick looked up with a questioning glance, but Kate smiled a wide and remembering smile at him and began to speak.

"Some potatoes soak up more moisture than others, so you only add a little bit of the sauce. That way, after you stir it in, you can tell if they're soaking up a lot of cream or just a little. That gives you the chance to add extra cream to thin out the rest of the sauce. When the potatoes soak it up, you consistency is just right. Also, when it cools, it thickens further. If you keep some sauce aside, you can add it in at serving time to the consistency is right to eat."

"Your mother was a very good cook," he whispered, the corners of his mouth lifting in a tiny smile. Kate looked over the pot to him and smiled back, nodding her head.

"Yeah, she was. She taught me most of what I know." Kate added in the lemon and continued to stir, the mixture getting thicker until she had added the juice. Now, it was just right. "Alright then," she mumbled and took the small dessert bowl from the lemon juice to scoop out a small portion of the salad. Fishing blindly in the drawer, she finally found two forks and took a seat on the bar stool next to Rick.

"Thank you," he mumbled, taking a fork from her and poking two cubes onto it with a piece of bacon. She watched him as he placed the fork delicately into his mouth and slide the pieces off the tines. He chewed for only a moment before his eyes rolled into his head and he let out a long groan of pleasure. Her blood was humming again as she watched his forehead thud on the island before sitting up and staring at the little bowl with bare slits for eyes. He swung his gaze up to Kate.

"Oh… my… God!" he mumbled through a full mouth of food. "This is… this is phenomenal. This is… wow!" he groaned before he shoved another two pieces into his mouth, chewing slowly to savor the flavor. "Wow…" he said softly and turned to her once again. "That is a _great_ recipe!"

"Thanks." With that, she popped a bite into her mouth and sighed. "That is good… It's been so long since I made it, I'm not sure if it tastes its best because it is better or because it's been so long." She nudged his arm with her elbow and smiled. "Maybe it's because of my amazing sous-chef…" she said with a smile. He smiled back before taking another bite and sliding off his stool.

"You're leaving?" she asked, hoping she sounded less disappointed than she felt. She knew he had a daughter and they had work tomorrow and it had been a long day, but a part of her wished he could stay a little longer. She felt less lonely, less sad with him around. With a smile in place to hide her dismay, he slid off her stool and made her way to the front door with him, sliding the locks open. "Thank you," she said as he stepped through the doorway. "This would have taken forever without your help." He smiled and she felt her pulse flutter. "I'll wash your two peelers and bring them into to you at work tomorrow."

"No rush… and keep one."

"Castle…"

"No, please. Next time, you'll have a good peeler. Maybe, uh… maybe it will save you my company for a night," he said, trying his best to sound glib, but his eyes seemed to twinkle a little less as he said it and she felt her resistance to him slip a little more.

"Castle, it's not because I don't enjoy your company. Sometimes, however, you are a little like a kid on a sugar rush… and, as a result, sometimes I'm like the nanny who's at the end of her rope, and I snap and it comes off sounding like I can't stand you. But, you're a little like being at a kid party and, every now and then, you need to talk to an adult to make sure you still have brain cells!"

"Thanks a lot!" he barked, his gaze narrowing, but his smile wide.

"You know what I mean… Too much of anything is no good."

"Well, gee, I guess it's a good thing we're not a couple or living together… You'd never be able to get away from me," he said, his gaze downcast as he stepped out her door, but her mumbled answer caught his attention.

"There are worse things…" she whispered, mostly to herself, but Rick had heard her as well and turned back to her with a curious tilt of the head. "Well, I stayed at your place once and I didn't lose my mind!" she countered and he grinned.

"I'm still not too sure about that," he grumbled under his breath, but her ears picked it up and she swat his shoulder. "Ow!"

"You deserve it! Now, out!" she declared with a laugh before softening against the frame. "And thank you, Castle," she added, watching him turn back to her with a grandiose bow from the waist and a tip of a non-existent hat. With that, she closed the door on him and leaned against the nearby wall, sliding down as tears unknowingly made their way to her face.

She didn't hate his company! She didn't want him gone! And she didn't want a way out of asking him over! And she couldn't believe he actually thought that about her. How could he?

'_Maybe because he said he loved you and you never really talk or acknowledged it at all! Maybe because you'd rather die than admit you've fallen in love with him, too?'_

"SHUT UP!" she screamed at the taunting voice in her head, but with a headache kicking in and her voice singing _'Naa na-naa na-naa-naa!'_ as she crossed to the kitchen to put away the cooling salad, she knew she was in for a sleepless night.

"Where's Castle?" Kate asked when she walked in at eight o'clock. Lately, he was there before her with her coffee and pastry. Today, he was nowhere in sight. Javier looked up from his paper work.

"Don't know. I guess he's just late. Maybe Alexis had something?"

"Yeah, I guess. Now, I'm caffeine-less," she whined as a man in a navy blue uniform came through the precinct with a large coffee in his hand and a paper bag in the other.

"I'm looking for a Kate Beckett?" he called out and all the homicide detectives looked up to woman in question. She swallowed.

"That's me," she said and the man approached her.

"Curtesy of Mr. Rick Castle. You're morning coffee and pastry. Thank you for shopping Clara's café." With that, he left and her team continued to stare at her. Javier leaned in to Kevin with a frown.

"I didn't know Clara's delivers," Javier said to Kevin, who shrugged in response.

"They don't," Kate said, sitting down with a smile. "This is Castle being Castle."

With a hurried step, she made her way to the bathroom for a moment and unfolded the letter that had accompanied her morning treat.

_KB_

_Sorry I'm not in today. Alexis needs a lift to a friend's across town. I won't be in. I'll see you tomorrow at Lanie's party._

_PS: I'm looking forward to more of that salad!_

_Castle_

Kate smiled and folded the letter as it had been, sliding it into her pocket before going back out to the bullpen. The second she arrived home, it was going into her treasures box…

"There you are, girl!" Lanie burst as Kate pulled up. Her jeans and t-shirt were as casual as could be and her hair was in its natural curling style around her shoulders. She made her way into the kitchen to set down the large pot of potato salad on the counter. Fifteen pounds of potatoes were heavy! Lanie was already wearing her swim suit, a bright white one-piece halter with a gold ring at the cleavage dip, with a crimson red knee-length sarong wrapped around her hips.

"Hey, Lanie. The potato salad as promised," Kate said, stepping back as Lanie scooped some into a serving bowl so as to put out only a little at a time.

"Good, now go change and come outside."

"I told you; I'm not staying long. I didn't bring my stuff."

"Girl, why you gotta be like this? What's so wrong with having a little fun?"

"There's nothing wrong with fun, Lanie. I love having fun, but this isn't my idea of fun. I don't really like pool parties."

"Look, you don't wanna loosen up; fine by me. Not my problem. But, you did agree to at least an hour. So, get you fun-hating butt out there and at least say hello. Javier, Kevin and Jenny and Castle are out there."

So he did show up, she thought to herself, unsure if going outside was a good idea or not. With Lanie waiting by the open patio door, tapping her foot impatiently, she caved and walked outside, sliding on her rubber flip-flops on the way only to find she preferred to walk barefoot on the grass. The sun was warm and the grass cool underfoot. It was a refreshing reprieve from the beating sun.

"Hey, Beckett!" Javier yelled from the picnic table which Lanie moved towards to set down the bowl of potato salad in a second bowl filled with ice.

"Hey, Esposito. How's it going?"

"Good," he said before pressing a kiss to Lanie's forehead.

"Hey, Kate," Jenny said from in the pool, sitting on a stair next to Kevin. He looked up with his fiancé and tilted his beer towards his boss.

"Hi, Jenny. Ryan. Say, where'd you get that nice cold-looking brown bottle?" she asked with a grin. She was off-duty. It was time to let loose a little.

"Cooler's over there. Castle's getting himself one right now. Hey, Castle!" Kevin hollered, waiting for the writer to look up from his task of selecting a beer. "Beckett's here! Grab a cold one for her!"

"Sure!" he called pack, plucking a second long-neck from the blue plastic container and making his way back to Kate to hand her the bottle. She twisted the cap off bare-handed and swigged half the bottle in one long drink, tilting her head back as if to facilitate the drinking. Rick swallowed hard and he didn't even have a mouthful of beer yet.

"Damn, that's good! It's so warm today," she gushed before turning to Rick. "How are you doing, Castle?" she asked, taking a seat on a lounger by the pool.

"It's going great. Sorry I wasn't in yesterday. Alexis had a trip and she asked me to drive her across New York to pick up her friend t bring them both. And, they wanted to be picked up, so…"

"Castle, your daughter has you wrapped around her little finger."

"Don't I know it. But I'm sure you have your dad equally around yours."

She smiled as her cheeks reddened. "Yeah, I guess."

They say side by side for a while, watching Javier and Kevin fighting in the water for a moment while Lanie and Jenny laughed in the corner on the walk-in stairs of the shallow end. They squealed every time one of the boys splashed their way, claiming they did not want to get their hair wet, but secretly reveling in teasing their men. For a moment, Kate felt a pang of regret that she could not be as open with Rick as they were, but she shrugged it aside. All the same, with the heat and the fun going on in the pool, Kate was beginning to regret not taking her friend's suggestion to bring her suit with her just in case.

Suddenly, Lanie and Jenny both squealed as their boyfriends swam discreetly to them and caught them by surprise, throwing them into the deeper end of the pool, submerging them both. Jenny and Lanie exchanged glances before swimming towards and tackling the two men who were too shocked by the ladies' aggressive attack to be able to prepare themselves. They were thrown off balance the war was on. Water splashed everywhere, flying towards Kate's feet and soaking the cuffs of her jeans, but watching the insanity was too much fun.

"Hey, Castle!" Lanie yelled from in the pool. Rick and Kate looked towards the medical examiner who was swam to the side of the pool and rested her forearms on the ledge. "Get your butt into this pool. I've been waiting all week to see what's under those button-up shirts you're always wearing."

"Hey!" Javier shouted in dismay, swimming up behind her and reaching for Lanie's behind. They laughed when Lanie squeaked in surprise.

"Oh, no, Javi… you did _not_ just pinch my booty!"

"Yeah, I did. Same way you just said you wanna eyeball my partner!"

Lanie smiled and kissed Javier before turning back to Rick. "C'mon, Writer Boy, you're not made of the paper you write on! The water won't hurt you."

Rick and Kate both laughed for a moment before he looked over at her. "I'm not leaving you here all alone," he said definitively, but she just shook her head.

"Castle, it's my fault I didn't bring my swim suit. Don't let me keep you from swimming."

Rick stood up and peeled off his shirt and Kate felt her mouth go dry. His body was perfect. He wasn't all muscled and chiseled like some kind of GQ model; he was better. His stomach was lean. Not ripped with muscles, but lean and slender. His arms looked much larger without his shirt, too. She knew them to be well built from the time he had lifted her effortlessly away from Montgomery's last stand, but she had been too grief-striken to care at the time. Now, the shapely body before her was making her mouth dry and her pulse race.

"Wasn't planning on it," he mumbled under his breath.

"Hmm?" she murmured, shaken from her trance to his warm, solid arms lifting her once more, this time off the chair and into his hold. "Castle!" she screamed. If it weren't for what she knew was coming, she would have reveled in the feel of being in his arms once again. Right now, however, she was more concerned with getting loose! "Castle, don't you dare!"

"Sorry, detective, but you're not wearing a gun today! I'm taking advantage of that!" he said gleefully and turned towards the deep end with her in his arms.

"Castle, put me down!"

"With pleasure!" he grinned and jumped

"NO!" she shrieked, unlike any scream she could remember issuing since childhood at amusement parks. She barely had time to close her mouth and hold her breath before the water engulfed her. Once underwater, he had loosened his hold on her and she had managed to turn in his grasp, her body zinging to awareness as his forearm grazed her breast.

If he noticed, he didn't let on as they surfaced, him with a massive smile on his face and hers furrowed. Fear trickled into his eyes for a second before he truly looked at her and began to full on laugh. Contagious as it was, she couldn't maintain her glare for long as she began to laugh herself, not only at his laughing, but at the adorable way his hair was sticking up at odd angles and the way he looked at least ten years younger.

"You're dead," she seethed as frighteningly as she could, but being doubled with laughter made it a very hard feat indeed. She reached out and pressed down on his head, dunking him underwater when he was least aware. He surfaced sputtering for a moment before she pushed him under once more. This time, however, after ten seconds underwater, she saw air bubbles float to the surface and felt him slacken and sink deeper down into the water.

For a moment, she thought he might be playing, but when he continued to sink lower and lower, she dove down to him. She wrapped her arms under his to haul him back to the surface, but he spun around in front of her and tickled her side for a second. She laughed out and mouthful of air bubbled out to the surface before they both kicked off and come up out of the water.

"You asshole!" she sputtered as she surfaced, hanging on to the side of the pool. He placed himself next to her and chuckled at her cussing. She turned and punched him hard in the shoulder, earning a confused glare from the writer.

"What? It was a joke!" he said, defensive of his little prank.

"Joke? You scared the crap out of me!"

"Hey, it seems to me barely a year ago someone's heart literally stopped for a moment in my arms! This is nothing!"

"Jesus, I didn't do it on purpose!" she said crossly.

"Didn't scare me any less because it wasn't intentional!" he argued back, drawing closer and closer to her with every rebuttal.

"Well, when you went limp just now, I didn't know it was a joke! It seemed damn real and _real scary_ to me!"

"Yeah, well I have a legitimate excuse to be scared of losing you! Why should you care if I go? I'm just the annoying writer!"

"No, you not! You're the man I love!" she screamed and the entire pool fell silent. "I mean…" she stammered, but the words refused to be taken back. Her eyes turned wondrous and stared at the wall. "I'm in love with you," she whispered, mostly to herself, but he was too close not to hear it.

"Good," he mumbled, making her turn back to face him as he curled an arm around her waist, pulled her body flush against him and pressed his lips to hers.

The whoops and hollers of the other pool occupants faded to white noise as her arm wrapped around his neck and the kiss deepened. The water swirled around them and she reveled in the feel of his warm, wet skin beneath her fingers. They itched to feel more of him, but she was too busy enjoying the feel of his lips against hers, warm and tasting of chlorine and beer, the smell of his cologne tangling with the pool water making her heady and indescribably happy.

After several moments longer, he lifted his mouth from hers, resting his forehead against hers. She smiled and let out a little sigh, nipping at his lips once more. He chuckled against them and squeezed her waist closer.

"By the way," he mumbled, grinning as she met his gaze. "your top looks far better now than it did five minutes ago," he told her, tugging at the shirt around her hips that clung. She laughed and smiled, her eyes alight with fire.

"Too bad for you it isn't white…" she teased only to chuckle when he growled and attacked her neck with his lips, making her squeal with glee. "Castle!" she reprimanded. "Stop it… you'll leave a mark."

"Oh, well…" he mumbled. Behind them, the applause had died down a little and Lanie had swum a meter or so nearer.

"So, Kate… thought you didn't like pool parties," she teased, Kate lifting her gaze to her friend with a delighted glow. She shook her head.

"I love them," she gushed, tightening her hold on Rick's neck. "I guess it just depends on the company…"


End file.
